


kiss me with adventure ('till i forget my name)

by Cinnamonbookworm



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flarrow Femslash Week, and kissing is involved, canon divergence - post season 2, in which felicity gives up and goes to paris with nyssa and sara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Cinnamonbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Plot Twist: Oliver kisses her.</i><br/>Post Season 2: in which the deleted kiss from 2x23 is canon and Felicity can't stay in Starling City anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me with adventure ('till i forget my name)

**Author's Note:**

> idk man. idk.  
> this is part of a larger au but it's femslash week so here you go.

Plot twist: they’re in the mansion, she’s a puppet on a string, he kisses her, shoves the syringe into her hand, her strings are cut, and she collapses.

Plot twist: Felicity Smoak breaks a little sooner than expected, and when she’s sitting in the empty Verdant afterwards and Sara Lance comes up to her to say goodbye she makes a reckless decision.

“Where are you going?”

“Away.”

“Take me with you.”

 

Nyssa takes to Felicity’s plea surprisingly well. She says nothing, but her eyes just sparkle with curiosity until she lets out a solemn nod.

Sara takes her aside before they board the boat.

“We’re assassins, Felicity; you know that, right? There’s not going to be anything heroic about what we do.”

“I know, I know. I just… I can’t be here right now, Sara. Any way I can just… stay out of it as much as possible?”

Felicity doesn’t hear Nyssa sneak up behind her, but as soon as her voice starts and her breath ghosts along her shoulders she can feel the hairs on her neck stand up in an indescribable way.

“We could use some tech in Paris.” Nyssa offers.

“How do you feel about Paris?”

“I can do Paris.”

 

Felicity doesn’t know where they get the money for the apartment, but they do.

It’s brick with a red door and has two bedrooms and one bathroom. Sara is mostly the one who cooks. Nyssa’s incredibly picky with interior design, so much so that Felicity gets the feeling they’ll be staying there much longer than the usual mission.

Felicity’s staying there is supposed to be a secret. Nyssa’s goal was to find tech in Paris. Tech her and Sara could use and manipulate and leave no trace to the League to while they conducted their… other activities there.

But Nyssa didn’t. She didn't and now Felicity’s living with them and sworn to secrecy and also living with two assassins who haven’t been together in over a year.

At the very least she’s glad that their secret relationship in the League has taught them how to have sex quietly. Felicity doesn’t know how she’d be able to bear the humid summer nights alone if she’d have to listen to the literal overwhelming amount of love they have for each other every night.

It would just remind her of Oliver.

And she can’t afford to think about him when she’s this far away.

During the day, though, they can’t really stop it from filling up the entire house. Nyssa paints a canary on the wooden table they eat their meals on; surprisingly good at art for someone whose entire life has been dedicated to fighting.

Sara stocks the pantry with expensive chocolates as a surprise for Nyssa and Felicity sees a real smile out of her for the first time.

Not a cat-ate-the-canary smile.

Not a shit-eating grin.

Not even that trademark smirk she’s gotten so used to seeing every time she makes a blunder with her words.

A real smile.

The humidity doesn’t feel quite as soul crushing when Nyssa smiles.

And then there’s the nights they go out: the nights when they return. The nights where Felicity’s holed up in her room usually decoding something slightly bloody that Nyssa’s dropped on her lap the day before actually looking like a cat who caught a canary. The nights that seem a little too much like waiting for waiting down in the lair except here she doesn’t have a steady heartbeat to remind her that they’re alive.

She just has silence.

And then, one day, they come to her with the catch for her solace with them: Ra’s has sent a spy and he’s getting suspicious of Nyssa’s lack of tech.

They need to give a source.

A believable one.

And sadly the supposed ex-girlfriend of Oliver Queen who’s mysteriously left the country and graduated from MIT summa cum laude is a perfect candidate.

Felicity tries not to make an inappropriate comment when it’s revealed the way Nyssa usually acquires said targets. And it has nothing to do with the fact that the mere idea of being said target is sending shivers down her spine and butterflies into her stomach. Nope. Not at all.

Because she’s going to have to kiss her if she wants to really sell it.

Well, she’s not going to have to, as Sara is really reminding her. It’s all her choice. But it’d help a lot. It would make a lot of sense and she wouldn’t even have to have a cover.

She would be her own cover.

She would kiss Nyssa and be her own cover. Right. Easy peasy. She could do that.

She can definitely do that.

Until she can’t.

Until she’s sitting at a bar in a small street of the city and stirring her drink with the thing the strawberry was on but isn’t anymore because she’s gone through three strawberries at this point she’s so nervous. She’s wearing a dress and her legs are suddenly colder than they should be, but it’s probably because three strawberries also equals three drinks and they’ve all been ice cold.

And then Nyssa shows up.

Nyssa always looks like a goddess, but especially so tonight. And it’s not like Felicity’s trying to check her out, especially since she is dating one of her friends, but…if she’s going to kiss her she might as well.

When Nyssa turns up a corner of her maroon lips Felicity realizes she might have just said all of that out loud.

They keep the smalltalk to a minimum. Nyssa knows her way around a conversation full of nothing and Felicity knows her way around making nothing sound like everything.

And, as the hours pass by and one man stays hidden in the far corner of the bar, they know they have their target.

Nyssa stands up.

Felicity takes a deep breath.

She’d rather be subject to Nyssa’s caresses and know they mean nothing to either of them than have to relive that terrible confusing kiss in the mansion. She’d rather be left breathless by something she expects and can deal with than something that’s a surprise and that wrecks her completely.

Nyssa’s a surprisingly good kisser, soft and sweet, only biting lips when she pulls away. She doesn’t kiss Sara like that, but Sara’s not as close to falling apart as she is. She curves her strong tongue in the hollows of Felicity’s cheeks and sucks on her pink lips with her own red ones, tilting her head back almost as if she's trying to suck out the memory of the last person Felicity kissed. She wouldn’t mind, really, if she succeeded.

Nyssa’s kisses are all about anticipation. She’ll massage her tongue with Felicity’s but use her strong arms to keep them only inches apart until Felicity is on the point of doing anything for the friction she’s craving, and it’s only then that she pulls her closer, until there’s no space between them anymore, hiking one of Felicity’s legs up around her waist and sliding her hand under her skirt before making sure the target’s looked away.

The first time she does this Felicity gets so disoriented she doesn’t even really realize how much time has passed until she’s sitting in the van post-hack with Sara trying really hard to remember her middle name.

“Do you think she’s going to have to kiss me like that every time you guys need me to hack something?”

Sara just kind of smirks a knowing smile and pops a donut hole in her mouth. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“As long as the score stays fair.”

Felicity barely has time to let out a “Wh-” before Sara’s grabbed her by the collar of her dress and is breathing new life into her.

Sara kisses more like a golden retriever. Her kisses are not cool and calculated and slow like Nyssa’s are, but sloppy and quick and wet and so full of energy that Felicity might mistake it for passion if she didn’t know better. There’s a ring of powdered sugar around her lips. Felicity finds herself licking her own as she pulls away, tasting the sugar.

Felicity’s face is red when she pulls away, almost the same shade of crimson as the stain Nyssa’s left on the side of her mouth.

When Nyssa pulled away she had looked like maybe she’d just won something. She’d tasted like victory too.

When Sara pulls away she looks like she’s just shoved something sweet down her throat and enjoyed it, which, Felicity thinks, maybe she has.

She can’t decide which she likes better.

But maybe she doesn’t have to.


End file.
